A few days ago, my father got himself one of those iPads that aren't. Tablets, I think they're called? I could google it, but why. In any case, he made me come to his office and help him set it up, and we had the following conversation (obviously, I have subbed out Burro's real name for...er...Burro, as my father does not actually call us by the
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Kind of glad they are your family as I have plenty of crazy running around in my own.
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. . . Someone tell me to stop, put the keyboard down, and go to bed.
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I think this is worth a few good days of "I told you so's".
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My dad plays this on the iPad and takes an unholy amount of glee in killing the pigs, but my mother has to play it with the sound down so her delicate sensibilities can gloss over the fact that the birds are sacrificing themselves to kill the pigs.
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